Chapter 3
The woman in the photograph was Brenda.
Brenda. The fifty-year-old night supervisor at the hotel. The woman who had shared lukewarm coffee with Meredith in the breakroom every night at 2:00 AM for three years. The woman who knew exactly why Meredith worked the graveyard shift. The woman who knew Lily’s room number at Mercy Northside Hospital.
“She sold you out for fifty thousand dollars,” Howerin taunted from the table, surrounded by his armed guards. “She told me your schedule. She told me about the secret husband. And she told my men exactly which wing your fragile little sister sleeps in.”
“We’re leaving. Now,” August ordered, his voice vibrating with a terrifying urgency.
He didn't wait for a response. He gripped Meredith’s hand and practically dragged her out of the ballroom, his six guards forming an impenetrable human shield around them as they retreated to the private elevator.
The doors slid shut, sealing them inside the steel box.
Meredith collapsed against the wall, the photograph slipping from her trembling fingers. Brenda. Her friend. The woman who had knit Lily a blanket for her last birthday.
“Why?” Meredith whispered, tears finally breaking through her shock. “Why would she do this?”
August pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her hair. “Because in my world, money buys loyalty, and fear buys the rest. I promised to keep you hidden, Meredith. I failed.”
“No,” she sobbed, clutching the lapels of his suit. “You didn't fail. But we have to get to the hospital. If Howerin’s men are there—”
“My men are already en route,” August assured her, pulling a secure satellite phone from his pocket. He dialed his head of security. “Silas. Status on Mercy Northside.”
Static crackled over the line. Then Silas’s grim voice answered.
“Boss. We have a problem. The hospital’s power grid just went down. Backup generators are failing. It’s a localized blackout in the pediatric cardiac wing.”
August’s face turned to stone. “Howerin’s men. They cut the power to bypass the security doors.”
“I’m two minutes out, August. But the police have cordoned the street. Someone called in a bomb threat. It’s a massive diversion.”
“Breach the barricade if you have to,” August commanded. “Do not let anyone near room 412.”
The elevator pinged, opening into the underground parking garage. August’s armored black SUV sat idling, the engine rumbling like a caged beast. He ushered Meredith into the back seat and climbed in beside her, shouting at the driver to move.
The SUV tore out of the garage, tires screeching against the wet pavement.
Meredith stared at her phone, dialing the hospital desk over and over. Nothing but dead air.
Then, her screen lit up with an incoming call from an unknown number.
She answered it frantically. “Hello?”
“Meredith.” The voice was shaking, choked with tears. It was Brenda.
“Brenda, how could you?” Meredith cried, the betrayal tasting like ash. “You knew she was sick! You knew she was waiting for a heart!”
“I didn't have a choice!” Brenda sobbed hysterically over the line. “They took my son, Meredith! Howerin’s men took Tommy two days ago. They said if I didn't give them your schedule and the hospital wing layout, they would kill him!”
Meredith froze. The pure, black-and-white anger fractured into something far more complicated. Howerin hadn't just bought Brenda; he had broken her.
“Where is Tommy now?” Meredith asked, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper.
“I don't know! But Meredith, listen to me!” Brenda panicked. “They aren't trying to kill Lily. Howerin wants leverage. He needs August’s biometric key to open the Archival Vault. They are moving Lily to a secondary location right now to hold her hostage!”
“Where are they taking her, Brenda?!”
Before Brenda could answer, the line went dead with a sharp click.
“August, they’re moving her,” Meredith panicked, grabbing his arm. “We have to—”
The armored SUV suddenly slammed on its brakes, throwing them hard against their seatbelts. The tires smoked against the wet asphalt as the driver fought for control.
“What the hell is going on?” August roared, drawing his weapon.
“We’re blocked, Boss,” the driver shouted back.
Meredith looked through the reinforced windshield. Two massive, blacked-out transport trucks had deliberately jackknifed across the rain-slicked intersection, completely boxing them in.
But it wasn't Howerin’s men who stepped out of the shadows.
May you like
A sleek, vintage Rolls Royce glided to a halt in the narrow space between the trucks.
A heavy knock sounded on the armored glass of August’s window. Standing in the freezing rain, leaning heavily on a silver-handled cane, was Odessa Vane.
